Dear friends:

WARNING! Mom-forward-alert!

There are some of you, like me, who are in the middle of a stressful spot. One of the things that I wish I had more time/patience for is order. You have expressed the same frustration. Clean house, clean mind. Right? But, I have had other, more important, things to do.

Giggling. Tickling. Playing ball. Practicing new words like fun, silly, rainbow, pink, mamushka and love.

Song for a Fifth Child

by Ruth Hulburt Hamilton

Mother, oh Mother, come shake out your cloth,
Empty the dustpan, poison the moth,
Hang out the washing and butter the bread,
Sew on a button and make up a bed.
Where is the mother whose house is so shocking?
She’s up in the nursery, blissfully rocking.

Oh, I’ve grown shiftless as Little Boy Blue
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).
Dishes are waiting and bills are past due
(Pat-a-cake, darling, and peek, peekaboo).
The shopping’s not done and there’s nothing for stew
And out in the yard there’s a hullabaloo
But I’m playing Kanga and this is my Roo.
Look! Aren’t her eyes the most wonderful hue?
(Lullaby, rockaby, lullaby loo).

The cleaning and scrubbing will wait till tomorrow,
For children grow up, as I’ve learned to my sorrow.
So quiet down, cobwebs. Dust go to sleep.
I’m rocking my baby and babies don’t keep.

Anytime you want to have a playdate in my filthy home or yours, just call me.